Mandarin
by myownmistress
Summary: He intertwines his fingers with hers and she squeezes because maybe next time he'll do it on his own. Trina/Andre


**AN: I don't know. I just recently fell in love with these two and I was very disappointed to see that there was only one other story for them. Don't get me wrong, I like Tandre and slowly but surely falling for Jandre, but Trina is really under appreciated. So, here is my contribution. **

**HAPPY EASTER ALL! **

_**Mandarin**_

"Andre."

"Whatever."

She swats his extended hand away because Trina Vega doesn't touch amateurs. (Sophomores.) All she knows is that he's an adequate musician that she just happens to be paired up with for some moronic school project. He'll help her pass the grade – boost up her singing career – and that's the only thing that matters.

She fancies the way Andy (she's really not in the mood to learn things) does everything because she's concentrated solely on her wardrobe.

"This one, or this one, Apollo?"

She holds up a glistening blue dress and an artless purple one up to her chest because both of them look positively fabulous on her. She's aware that his eyes mingle with her for too long and can't help but giggle. -Just a little bit-

She doesn't even try to suppress the glint of envy boiling under her skin when Tori embezzles him away.

-:

They're still foreigners, but he, though he fought valiantly, couldn't stop himself from going to her play.

"She's hilarious, dude."

Although he can't see him, Andre glares holes into the commenter's silhouette. He knows that she labored diligently on it and it wasn't supposed to be a comedy. And he's startled to see that her sister didn't show up. Because it seems as if Tori is never at anyone's performances unless she's the star. But he has tried to get close to her and know her and make her believe that things could be about _them_. He's tried to show her that there can still be a rainbow if it's snowing.

He wasn't good enough and ponders whether or not Trina isn't, either.

He finishes hearing her belt out another verse of Chicago and has no doubts that she would be the first artist on his playlist. Despite the fact that the screen would most likely be her in neon skinny jeans.

Before anyone has a chance to pick up on him, he slips out of the theater.

"Yeah," he mutters.

-:

His feet barely touch the ground as they take him to her -their- home.

"Tori isn't here."

She wishes she wasn't, but she's disgusted at her name and cringes when she realizes that she just cannot hate her because she's so damn perfect. Even though she may not even mean to be.

"I didn't come for her."

Trina isn't the Big Bad Wolf, so she lets him in only because she can also feel the cold air nipping at her features. And she doesn't know what's wrong with her because she forgets all about her guacamole facial scrub and settles on watching _**Extraordinary Measures **_with him. She starts sobbing and hears him sniffling and inching closer toward her on the loveseat. She finds herself forgetting what time it is and what day and in what month.

She knows that it's perverted, but she can't help but wonder if she had Pompe, if people would just pay attention.

The end of the movie nears and she starts to grin because they finally find a remedy.

"I like it when you smile."

She looks at him for a moment and she feels like she's important.

A few hours later, he leaves her house content knowing that her favorite color is mandarin. He didn't have the heart to tell her that it's not a color.

-:

He calls her, she calls him. They text each other.

He picks her up for some ice cream and sprinkles and waves goodbye to Tori. He'll never get over her, but he can always push her to the back of his mind. And for once, he notices that the girl in his passenger side seat has her hair up in a messy bun and isn't wearing stilettos.

She hums to his Jazz collection, every word known in advance. He looks at her quizzically because Trina is presumed to be a Pop driven individual.

"Hold my hand."

Andre's certain she's not one to ask for anything. Everything. He intertwines his fingers with hers and she squeezes because maybe next time he'll do it on his own. But she's not in love with him cause love is a load of bull. The only one that really, truly loves Trina is Trina.

She gazes at their reflection in the rear view mirror of the car and can't help but to note how _cute _they are together. (Not perfect. Never perfect.)

They are good enough.

They'll just never be great.

-:


End file.
